Mrs Sharp
by onelimitlessdreamer
Summary: A certain newsreel, from the perspective of the mother who was left behind.


**Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later- I made this count mostly just to be able to review stories, but now I've gone and gotten myself inspired. I hope you enjoy it... I'd just always wondered how Mrs. Sharp felt during all this. I know Deryn thinks she's terrible for stuffing her into skirts and such, but of course a mother's love stretches far and wide. And one can hardly blame her for trying to do what she thought was right.**

**Anyway, enough rambling- Without further ado: My first fanfiction. :)**

* * *

><p>Mrs. Sharp was sick with worry. Both her children were off in this mad war, and she was sitting at home like a useless lump, wondering if they'd ever come home.<p>

In the mean-time, the most she could do was keep up with the events of this bothersome war that had dragged the rest of her family halfway across the world. She paid the fare and stepped into the dark room of the cinema. It would appear she was just on time, as the projector made whirring noises behind her and the screen lit up with a muddy picture of grays and whites. She'd never been to a newsreel before, and wasn't sure what to expect. She sighed as her eyes adjusted to the blurry image- it was some nonsense coverage of two boxers in a ring. _Really_, she thought to herself_, Half the world's in a war and people are still concerned about their daft sports competitions!_

She nearly left the cinema after a few minutes, but something kept her glued to her seat. Certainly not the brutes fighting on the screen, but she _had_ paid the fare, and it was at least a nice place to relax for a few more moments.

She closed her eyes and thought for a minute, about the war, about her children, about her daft husband who insisted on letting their daughter do things a girl never should. And look where he'd gotten her—look where he'd gotten himself!

Startled out of her reverie by the clank and click of the reel ending and being replaced, Mrs. Sharp noticed the tears that had splashed across her cheeks. Well, there was nothing for it but to wait out the next reel; she couldn't very well go out in public looking like a weeping mess! She fished for her handkerchief out of her handbag and dabbed at her eyes as she tried to control her breathing. This war couldn't go on forever, and surely she'd have heard by now if Deryn or Jaspert had come to any trouble. Jaspert was a fine young man, strong and able. And at least if her husband had to spoil Deryn with unfeminine habits, he'd taught her how to take care of herself. Surely, if she'd lasted this long without being discovered, or injured or… Surely she'd be fine.

Mrs. Sharp focused once more on the new newsreel which had begun rolling. It showed some British warship in a desert, probably Mexico. She wondered what it had been doing in a neutral country. She closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get out of that cinema and breathe some fresh air. What could this newsreel tell her that she didn't know already? The world was a wreck, that much she knew already. She opened her eyes once more, determined to leave even if it was rude to leave smack dab in the middle of a newsreel. At the sight, however, she gasped and bolted out of her seat for quite another reason. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide, and sank slowly back down as she looked into the wide eyes of Deryn, her very own Deryn. She appeared to be gliding on wings—_wings!_ So her girl was still flying, after all. And in ways her father never could have dreamed for her. All too soon, the Deryn on the screen swooped away and was replaced by a sign that read "THE BRAVE AIRMAN TESTS HIS WINGS."

"…Ma'am?" A tentative voice came from beside her. She turned to see a gentleman looking at her with concern on his face. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

"Yes," she breathed, taking her hand away from her mouth at last, "It's just, that was my—my _son_." She caught herself just in time, and hoped the man mistook her stutter for shock. "I wasn't expecting to see him, is all."

He smiled at her. "You have a very brave boy, ma'am. It must be nice to see his face."

"Yes," she agreed, a bit absent-mindedly, "Very brave. Excuse me."

She hurried out of the cinema and made her way back home. She collapsed in a huff on her bed, purposely taking deep breaths. Well, if nothing else, she knew Deryn was still alive. And well enough to fly!

Mrs. Sharp reached in her drawer and took out a stack of newspaper clippings which she spread around her. Every article she ever found that might have something to do with one of her children she'd cut out and hidden away in that drawer. She picked up one article. "A Daring Midshipman Handles the Situation."

She sent up a silent prayer for Deryn's safety. She wondered how much longer this madness could go on.

Mrs. Sharp never was sure what was more daft: That girl of hers, thinking she could fool the whole country, the whole world; or that somehow she had.

Or perhaps the most daft thing of all was the merest flicker of pride that she felt, not quite hidden among all that worrying.


End file.
